What might it be that doesn't let me compete to three verses ?Perhaps it is that I tend to write longer poems, perhaps the lenghshouldn't matter so much as the message is carried through.From mind to heart, then to ones soul I try to reach out with no goal.Yet am beaten, brought back down, by three verses which show upwith such malice, ominous, threatful aura, they have approached me.I pretend not to mind, I pretend not to have seen it, yet the simple,silly, broken stream in my thoughts has already engaged it.So that it once again, cannot repress, envy on such a level.My writing style might have been through changes, might havecome to a disliking to those who prefer a clear, structured, yet wellrecorded, beautiful and magnificent rhyme pattern.That should surely catch one's eye, perhaps fill them with glee andbliss, happy thoughts that they would miss once they are gone.But no, I cannot turn, this path was chosen, locked, destined to bewalked upon on an journey which has become endless, by timewhich had stopped passing anymore.So now it became unrecognised, forgotten, left in an abyss withoutany light to expose it to the world outside my head.Such is the fate, which I will gladly bear with, for this, has beena route, from which I learn and educate.So go ahead, you can take my flame thrice, even if I might not beable to burn this image into your eyes, this ember, about to go outfrom the cold, windy, airless area, will only burn brighter.As it rises from the ashes and yet again, goes ablaze